Jan. 1, 2000
Marines run out of uniforms
Kien-k’ang • An unnamed source in the marine corps has revealed to this paper that, for the last four months, marines have been unable to purchase their uniforms except from custom tailors, as the company that manufactures it for general issue, Polygon Manufacturing Corporation, has folded unexpectedly, and its corporate leadership is now under criminal investigation for multiple forms of fraud.
Marines' uniforms on exhibition, 1890 (left) and 1990 (right).
We are told, by also-unnamed sources, their executives have hollowed out the company’s coffers to buy
B enron shares, with tragic results.
While the company was still liquidating remaining stock, the force had told its members there were still more than 8,000 coats in stock, which would last more than seven months at the usual pace they buy new coats, while new sources are sought.
“Initially, we thought this was good news because bankrupt companies usually sell their stock for a steep discount, so we could buy them on the cheap as we go,” he said over the telephone with caller ID disabled. “Now, an entire class of officers and men would have to appear at the Admiralty’s garden party in their private clothing.”
To make an issue thought to be a few months away fully immediate, the residual coats have suddenly been snapped up by a film studio and two re-enactment groups; desiring immediate funds to satisfy creditors, the company sold the lot overnight, leading to the compromising shortage.
Fortunately, the force’s battle uniforms are not affected by the folding of the company.
It appears the lion’s share of the coats have been purchased by Lucerne Studio, which is now producing a feature-length film about labour movements of 1890 Tyran. According to our own estimation, that film could involve thousands of extras in scenes of a truly epic scale, all of whom need to be dressed period-appropriately.
As for the re-enactors, they appear to specialize in certain 19th-century line-infantry units, many of which had coats reasonably similar to those of the Marines. The Capital Defence Force, now the 242th Brigade, is an example, except their coats had buttons of a different colour.
A third potential bulk-buyer was the Kien-k’ang Chamber of Lawyers, which had its eyes set upon the black frock coats that are part of barristers’ dress code of the superior courts. However, the film studio and re-enactor group had polished off the supply before the lawyers could order them, probably hampered by the legal term now in session.
The shortage has reportedly wreaked havoc on soldiers’ wallets, as a custom frock coat could run as much as $5,000 at some tailoring operations. A more economical supplier would still charge $2,000 if a suitable template is not at hand.
“It really is a objectionable and costly inconvenience,” our source said. “I had to sell part of my cellar, amounting to eight vintages, to pass the next uniform check. I had expected to spend at most $900 out of pocket, but I was charged no less than $2,900 even with uniform subsidies applied. I daren’t think how my comrades are coping.”
“On the other hand, a fitting frock coat does mean I can waltz into a gala dinner held for the legal profession and remain undetected, until they ask me about the state of my practice, that is.”
It is unclear what the forces, or the Bip Government, would do to address this problem.
“The issue has been reported to me,” the private secretary to the Under-Secretary for Defence Procurement spoke to us. “As it is now before a court of law, it will not be proper to comment on what happened of the company. But insofar as it relates to the financial wellbeing of our servicepeople, a committee is now impaneled to select a new supplier, and the Defence Secretary will make the final decision in due time. The Admiralty has been directed to deliberate necessary accommodations or contingencies in the meantime.”
“Oh no, it’s one of the off-term purchasing decision review committees again,” our source moaned after learning about the minister’s decision. “They have to vet all the committee members for conflicts of interest, and it will probably not meet, let alone report for at least six months.”
In the past, if a supplier goes bust with an ongoing contract with the government, there were usually back-ups; if the supplier is manufacturing something that cannot be replaced in the short term like a warship, the Government usually demanded proof of financial security or backing before the contract is executed. It is unclear if Polygon was given the same standard screening process, though it may have been exempted as a minor contract.
“One of my friends works with the 242nd Brigade, and their coat is almost the same as ours, or so I hear,” a marine in a Gucci x Armani t-shirt avers, “I suppose I’ll just have to get my hands on one and DIY my own uniform. I will phone-order a few velvet buttons from a haberdasher. It doesn’t violate some kind of labour protection or workplace safety legislation, right?”
“You can,” our source replied, “but you will still have to pay full price because you don’t have the 242nd’s uniform subsidy coupons. And you can’t DIY your own coupon, for obvious reasons.”
“It’s just one more reason why Coast Guard people will gloat about their glorious service and lord their glorious free uniforms over us.”
It is understood that the Cenetral Labour Board is to intercede on behalf of Themiclesia’s marines, who may be saddled with “employers’ expenses” through no fault of their own.
“If the case enters arbitration, the Marines may not have a good defence,” says Sjt. Kjing, a member of the Supreme Court’s bar, who has worked in labour law for five decades. “It will certainly be represented that the only reason they suffer up to $5,000 for a set of uniforms is the employer’s arbitrary decision and is not a substantive and anticipated part of the employee’s responsibilities, per contract.”
How much does it cost? An interview with Dr. GwjangWe called Dr. Gwjang, lately Captain-general of Marines, to check if he remembers how much uniforms actually cost. He makes some surprising revelations.
“A considerable amount, they cost.
“When I was a field archaeologist leading a survey in Prjin around 1982, I had less than $500 to spend each month. Taking a captain’s commission, I was immediately hit with a $2,970 bill for tailoring the dress coat, no, the frock coat. I’ve always hired a dress coat until 2005, when I undertook diplomatic duties and was forced to invest in my own.
“Back in the 80s, the enlisted rates received a generous subsidy for their uniforms, covering 80 to 90% the nominal cost of uniforms, but officers like me—junior ones—were expected to front every penny, at sticker price. The tailors knew we were freshly-minted officers and can’t back out of our units right after taking a commission. They presented finer after finer wool, pricier after pricier linings.
“The frock coat was the dearest piece wardrobe. It cost $2,100 by itself and was joined by a $450 waistcoat and $190 fishtail trousers. The cravat was $210. In ’85 I also had to buy court shoes, satin suspenders, and, cuff links, and er, replacement buttons, but those were common goods. I got those from consignment.
“The rest was cheap. The sack coat was merely $150, the trousers were $20, and the waistcoat was $20, I think. These were really shoddy coats, as nobody I know can make them last more than a year.
“When I became a senior officer, I was notified by the Cabinet Office that I was invited to functions of state, and I had to follow how the dignitaries dressed. I had to follow the dignitaries, the royal family, government ministers, and socialites. This is where costs started to spiral out of control.
“The royal court switched to top coats on September 15, so I had to order a frock topcoat. With lining, that was $4,000. On November 1, they started wearing overcoats, so I bought a frock overcoat, which was $5,500.
“I’m not saying they made $5,500 off me with just one coat, since they have costs too, but I was a humble public servant surviving on a modest, very modest wage. I have royalties from my 1987 book, but I prefer not to spend that on my military career.
“When I was a captain, there was this drill sergeant—he did not know me—who saw me sometimes out of uniform. He lost his temper at me in public, which went through the grapevine to the head of training. He apologized to me for this indiscretion and guaranteed that ‘disciplinary proceedings are forthcoming’ but suggested to me, very politely, to observe how all my peers have committed to the dress code.
“Then he spoke in my ear, ‘I think your rank is up-side-down, which is why he mistook you for a corporal or something.’”